


no logic to human behavior

by hermionesmydawg



Series: you belong (to me) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bloodplay, Bucky Barnes is a pain slut, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Knife Play, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sensation Play, Steve Rogers is a sweet sadist, Sub Bucky Barnes, and admits it, sub pov, you can't shame him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionesmydawg/pseuds/hermionesmydawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is in a Mood, and this is just the kind of quality sadism Bucky signed up for in this relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no logic to human behavior

**Author's Note:**

> What's the fun of having these kinky bastards at my fingertips if I'm not gonna play with them? Heed the tags, please.
> 
> Same universe as my story "you belong (to me)" but having read that beforehand is not necessary.

Bucky sniffed his arm as he dried off. Usually he liked the fruity shit - and there is nothing wrong with the fruity shit - when he took a shower. Fancy shampoo and conditioner was a must because he had fucking fantastic hair and needed to show it off to the max, and the body wash...well, he just liked to smell nice. It made him feel good. And hungry.   
  
But today he just smelled clean. Like standard issue body wash. He inspected the shower, only then noticing that his Eau d'Orange had been replaced with, "Dial?! The _fuck_ , Steve?"   
  
Grumbling curses about old cheap ass men, Bucky wrapped a towel around his waist and stormed out of the bathroom, his wet hair flinging droplets of clean water through their brownstone as he went. Yes, he and Steve basically shared a bedroom now, but the bathrooms, no. Some things were just better left separate.   
  
"Steve, you better have a good ass explanation for this soap business or I swear to _God_ I will pour all of your stupid bottled water down the sink and refill it in the fucking East River!" Bucky yelled at Steve before even finding him. He stomped into their bedroom to find Steve lounging on the bed in a tee shirt and sweat pants.   
  
Steve looked innocent enough, but Bucky knew better. Well that, and it was really fucking difficult for someone to look innocent while relaxing on a bed built specifically to support the bondage habits of two enhanced humans. Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Steve," he said bitterly.   
  
"Bucky," Steve replied, cocking his eyebrow. "I didn't throw your soap away. Just temporarily replaced it."   
  
"Why?" Steve sat up on the bed with a smile, pulling a shiny object from behind his back. That little shit. Bucky swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "That's my Gerber. Why do you have my knife?"   
  
Steve pursed his lips. "Two different questions. I'll answer one. Your choice."   
  
Fucking hell. "Why did you replace my soap?"   
  
"It's antibacterial," Steve answered simply. He attempted to twirl the knife in his fingers. It was a good try, but not effective. "The knife's been disinfected too, don't worry."   
  
See, Steve, he did this shit now. The whole "surprise, I'm your fucking dom" thing. Secretly, Bucky loved the hell out of it, though he pretended to hate it. It's a game. It's awesome. And Steve's about to fuck him up and he can't wait.   
  
With an evil little crook of his finger, Steve drew Bucky to the side of the bed. He took a moment to cast an appreciative gaze over Bucky's body. Bucky understood him well enough now to realize that Steve did this not only because he loved the way he looked, but because he wanted to remember and compare the before and after shots from their little play sessions.    
  
Steve was pretty gentle actually, as far as asshole doms go. The most wrecked part of Bucky's body after Steve finished with him was usually his face, and that was from emotions not contact. And even though Steve gripped his chin and brought him down for a sweet kiss, Bucky wasn't fooled - the dude was a sadist. Just a... _sweet_ sadist.   
  
"You really are a work of art, Buck," Steve murmured.   
  
_A Picasso maybe_ , Bucky thought, but knew better than to say. The last thing he needed was for his half-boner to get smashed by a lecture on his value and self-worth. Steve could call him good and beautiful and he'd eat it up like candy on Halloween but that didn't equate believing it about himself. He knew art - he woke up next to it every morning.   
  
"You gonna paint me?" Bucky asked with a smirk. _Paint him black and blue and red, his favorite hues._   
  
"Not exactly." Steve traced the blade of the knife across the outline of Bucky's hip, loosening the towel until it fell to his feet. Serrated, Bucky noticed, the blade he kept under the coffee table. He glanced at the headboard of the bed, noticing his "hidden" sheath there was empty. Hmm. Okay.    
  
Steve spoke again, drawing his attention back where it needed to be. "Safe word?"   
  
Bucky cringed. Jesus fucking Christ, Steven, he wasn't an amateur. Fuck, he'd probably let the man flay him and then thank him for it. "Steve-"   
  
The blade of the knife was at his jugular before he even got to complete his bitching. "Safe. Word."   
  
Bucky sighed. His dick twitched. He was in love. "Luna," he answered compliantly. One of these days he was going to change his safe word to something ridiculous, like cockgobbler or vagina.   
  
"Good boy," Steve purred. Bucky soared. "I'm going to blindfold you, okay?"   
  
"Okay, sir," Bucky replied. He closed his eyes and waited, listening to the light clink of the knife being placed on the nightstand, the shuffle of Steve sliding off the bed, and the quick breathing from his partner as he slipped a thin piece of cloth over his eyes.   
  
Steve tried to pretend like he was super tough all the time but this whole act got to him just as much as it did to Bucky.   
  
Bucky blinked when Steve grabbed his shoulders and guided him to the mattress, flipping him over and positioning him flat on his back. The blindfold was thin and didn't impede his vision much, so he kept his eyes shut. Ya know, for the desired effect.   
  
But then Steve disappeared. Like, Bucky got it - suspense and anticipation blah blah blah - but he was still a little damp and cold and dying to see if Steve would actually go through with this. Because Bucky was the knife freak, not Steve. Bucky was the one who liked to push the limits, do things a little harder and more dangerous than what you might find in a BDSM For Dummies book.   
  
When you're alive and you've got no fucking explanation for how or why, perspectives tend to change just a little bit.   
  
The bed dipped, adjusting to Steve's weight as he finally rejoined him. "Leave with a knife, come back with a feather?" Bucky joked, wiggling his fingers at his sides. This was why he liked being tied up - he didn't have to worry about what to do with his hands.    
  
Steve laughed. "Oh, is that all you want, a feather?"   
  
Something tickled Bucky's belly. He blindly reached for Steve and giggled. Holy shit, he didn't even realize he could make that sound. "That's not a feather, jerk. That's your beard."   
  
"Don't move," Steve warned.   
  
Bucky's arms fell back to the bed faster than the smile from his face. He waited for Steve to speak again, the silence leaving him no choice but to focus on the things he could sense and feel now. Soft, warm sweatpants trapping his thighs. The itchy blanket that Steve hated below his back. The smell of his own goddamn body wash radiating from Steve's skin. What an ass.   
  
"We should play a game," Steve said.   
  
Bucky hated Steve sometimes. Only he could make pinning your naked, blindfolded boyfriend to the bed under threat of a knife sound like fucking game night with their vanilla neighbors and their 2.5 kids and 1.25 pets.   
  
"What's the game?" Bucky grumbled.   
  
"I literally just thought of it so I don't have a name yet."   
  
Bucky sighed. _Think of the dick. The man has an amazing dick._   
  
Something warm and wet covered his nipple, and great, this game was going somewhere now. "What was that?" Steve asked.   
  
"Tongue," Bucky answered easily.   
  
"Good." Steve licked his lips. Bucky recognized that sound anywhere. "You guess right, we keep playing. Guess wrong? Not so much."   
  
"Hmph. You'd really waste this opportunity?"   
  
"That's how much faith I have in you, baby."    
  
Bucky didn't have time for a smartass remark before it was his turn to guess again. He hissed, trying not to buck his hips at the dull scratching sensation running up the underside of his cock. It sprung to life under Steve's touch, and goddammit, why was he such a pain slut? He gritted his teeth. "Fingernail?"   
  
"Is that a question or an answer?"   
  
The blindfold was good for one thing - Steve couldn't see Bucky roll his eyes. "Answer," he said.   
  
"See? You're doing great." Bucky pictured Steve's proud grin and smiled. "Okay, gotta make it trickier."   
  
Natasha used to always tell him to breathe because somehow he'd forget. Steve hasn't figured that out yet. His next breath came as a deep gasp - a searing pressure above his pelvis knocked the wind out of him. Cold and hot and sharp and dull... _what the fuck was it?_ "Again," Bucky breathed.   
  
He felt it again in the same spot, much sharper this time, like the cold was traveling up his spine. Maybe the temperature was just a distraction? Fuck Steve for making this into a win/lose situation. "Why is it so cold?"   
  
"Tell me what it is first."   
  
His face scrunched up ugly - he knew it, and just didn't care. Steve must have felt an ounce of pity for him, mouthing on one hip while moving the knife - _knife!_ \- to his other. Another slow swipe of the metal, deep but warmer, and that bastard might have actually broken the skin this time. Bucky hoped so, anyway. "That's my Strongarm."   
  
Steve whistled, blowing warm air over Bucky's now very prominent and neglected erection. Probably wouldn't get any relief there soon. "Nice. It's been in the freezer. Supposed to feel sharper when cold, like it's actually breaking the skin."   
  
Bucky furrowed his brow. "Did it not?"    
  
"I guess you'll find out later, huh?" He sounded evil. It was hot.   
  
The skin tingled a little, but straight up stung when Steve lapped at the cut (scratch?) with his tongue. Bucky didn't know he was living with a goddamn fucking _vampire_. Bless that kinky bastard, just...bless him. Jesus _fuck_.   
  
Steve shifted as if he were reaching for the foot of the bed. Bucky thrust his hips in the air, just barely brushing against Steve's fleece clad bulge. Good to know Bucky wasn't the only one enjoying this. Steve tsked. "Ya say something, Buck?"   
  
Bucky smiled sweetly, twisting his fingers in the blanket. "Was thinking that I'm three for three, sir."   
  
"Two more to go," Steve responded. "You still good?"   
  
"Aces." Basically, only a self-admitted masochist could find his position heavenly, but shit, it was what it was. And Steve was serious about this, despite the game aspect of it. Bucky never felt safer than when he was lying relaxed and pliant for him. He loved it. Him. Both.   
  
_ Breathe, because each new surprise was better than the last. Breathe, because  **knife play** _._ Breathe, because if you don't, you die. _   
  
He heard it before he felt it, the infuriating roll of metal on metal and then on skin, and fuck, it tickled. "Wartenberg wheel," Bucky squeaked.   
  
Don't move, Steve had said. Don't move, even though he guessed and the wheel was still whirring up his side and down his legs, tickling like a motherfucker.   
  
_ Don't. Move. _   
  
Fuck. "It tickles," he pleaded, hating that he caved in so quickly. Pain he could handle, but tickling was just torture.   
  
"I'm waiting for a more accurate answer," Steve responded. He rolled harder and slower, crossing Bucky's chest with the wheel.    
  
This was fine, good even. It bit, like each pin was about to pierce his skin. And now he could answer properly. "Double pinwheel."   
  
"I'm impressed," Steve said, tossing the wheel to the side.   
  
Bucky slowly licked his lips, a silent plea for some sort of skin to skin contact. He's gotten used to Steve's hands-on, gentle style, and while this was definitely fun, he craved more. Him, craving human contact - that still surprised him from time to time. "Steve?"   
  
"One more," Steve answered, because apparently he was a damn mind-reader too or something. Bucky whimpered, and Steve gave his knee a soft squeeze. "I got you. You'll like the last one, I promise."   
  
_He's liked all of them_ , Bucky thought. He just wanted more. Steve loved to be a fucking tease.   
  
Steve leaned forward, resting his left hand to the side of Bucky's head. His thumb curled in a strand of Bucky's hair, and Bucky got lost in the sound of that scary slow heartbeat above his body.    
  
_ Thump, thump, thump, slice. _   
  
Like a papercut through his heart that never seemed to end. Bucky sucked in air through his teeth, he whined, he forgot what the fuck he was going to say or do. The pain was sharp and shallow on his left pectoral, and it wasn't stopping, just spreading, like -   
  
That fucker was _drawing_ on him. With a _scalpel_.   
  
Bucky couldn't help it. He moaned like Steve was balls deep inside him, slamming into his prostate until he was a weeping mess just begging for some sort of release. Fuck, he was pretty close to that point already and he'd barely even been touched.    
  
_ Don't move. _   
  
No one would understand him if he tried to explain this feeling. Pain was good, pleasure was good, people were bad but not Steve, _never_ Steve. And not him either.   
  
"Hey," Steve whispered against his lips. He was kissing him. Bucky hadn't noticed. "What language was that?"   
  
"I-" _He'd been talking?_ "I don't know?"   
  
"More?" Steve asked.   
  
Bucky nodded. "Please."   
  
Bucky thought maybe he would adorn his chest with more designs, but the sting from the first set was enough to linger on. Instead Steve dropped back and enveloped Bucky's cock in his mouth, digging his thumbs into his thighs and dragging his teeth up his length as he ascended.   
  
_Don't move_ , he thought, forcing his mind to play along. He could let his imagination run wild when Steve was in control. Phantom hands pinned his wrists and ankles, another wrapped its fingers around his neck and squeezed the life and death out of him. Steve was so warm that he made Bucky forget what cold was like.   
  
And then Bucky roared like he was a goddamn lion or something, arching his back to fuck himself deeper into Steve's mouth. He was strong, but Steve was stronger - he held him in place, pinching the tender flesh of his thigh to ground him again. He needed that before he floated off to Neverland and forgot how to speak for an hour. It happened once. "Steve," he begged. "I, I - may I?"   
  
Because asking for permission to come when the one person who can give it has a dick shoved down their throat is completely logical. Obviously. But he liked to ask for it, and it was the most polite way to say, _"Heads up Stevie, I'm about to coat your throat."_   
  
He threw his head back, opening his eyes to the sun shining through the thin fabric obscuring his vision. It was peaceful, like orgasming on the beach. They should do that, together. God, he felt fucking amazing.   
  
Steve sat up, and Bucky thought maybe he should offer his services but honestly he just needed a minute or five. No worries though - the bed shook a little, Steve grunted, and came all over Bucky's stomach. What a beautiful day.   
  
"Lord forgive me, but I do love to sin," Bucky mumbled in French. He jerked, sensing something approaching his face. The fabric over his eyes ripped, revealing a flushed Steve holding the serrated knife again.   
  
Steve tossed the knife to Bucky with a raised eyebrow. "You love to sin?"    
  
He caught the knife easily, flipping it in his fingers and blindly sliding it into the sheath attached to the headboard. Yes, he was a showoff. Yes, it was gonna bug the hell out of him that the wrong knife was stored in the bedroom. "I forgot that you speak some French."   
  
" _Oui_ ," Steve answered with a wink. "I'm gonna clean you up, be right back."   
  
Bucky was almost convinced Steve loved aftercare more than the kink itself. He returned with some warm washcloths, wiping his belly and hips first, then his chest. Then came the hydrogen peroxide, and the ointment. Bucky didn't like anything that reminded him of medical treatment, so he never watched if Steve had to clean him up. This was definitely the first time he'd ever bled in their bedroom, so Steve had been extra hyper about hygiene before and after the sexy fun times.   
  
"You feel better?" Steve asked.    
  
The tone made it seem like the question was deeper than his superficial wounds. "Have I been bad?"   
  
"Give me five minutes before you start asking questions like that, man."   
  
Bucky opened his eyes and laughed. "Maybe I've been a little crotchety."   
  
"You threatened to make me drink from the East River because I moved your soap."   
  
"In my defense, I'm over 100 years old and I'm finally getting set in my ways." Bucky scrunched his nose. "But yes, I feel much better now. Thank you."   
  
Steve smiled. "Good. You wanna go to the club tonight? Show off my work?"   
  
"Wha?" Oh yeah, the scalpel. Since Steve had cleared the bed of all the sharp objects, Bucky sat up on elbows and stretched his neck to get a good look at his chest. R. G. S. Backwards. Upside down. **SGR**. "You little shit. You signed me with a _scalpel_."   
  
"Like I said, a work of art." Steve strolled out of the bedroom with his hands on his hips, whistling proudly.    
  
Fucking artists. Bucky had to admit, though - he'd never felt prettier.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, thanks to my darlings maybemadmarie and homegrownoregano for fixing my grammar and dying over kink, respectively.
> 
> Please come visit me on [tumblr](http://anthonystan.tumblr.com)!


End file.
